How impossible it still was to believe that this proud, beautiful man was a prince who had been stripped of his title and home and everything that was rightfully his. That he had been forced to earn his bread in London as a mercenary. And yet, although she knew his means were modest, he had spent a small fortune on a gift for her.
“You needn’t give me anything,” she said. “You should save your funds. You’ll need them soon.”
Her voice broke on the last word, no matter how she tried to hide it.
“You were admiring it,” he said softly. “I wanted you to have something beautiful. A trifle to remember me by if I’m not able to return.”
If he wasn’t able to return. She didn’t want to think about the implications in his words. That she would never see him again and he would forever be lost to her.
“I’ll not need a fan for that,” she whispered, her voice thick with suppressed emotion. “I could never forget you, Theo.”
“You should be dressing for your ball this evening.”
But he didn’t make any move to release her, and she didn’t let go of him, either. They stood there in the hush of the library, holding each other as if it were their farewell. And perhaps, she thought grimly, it was.
“Is it tonight?” she asked, though she knew she shouldn’t.
Knew he wouldn’t tell her even if it was.
“The less you know, the better, love.”
There was warning in his tone, but also an underlying tenderness. She liked to believe he would warn her in some way. That she would somehow know which of their secret meetings would also be the last. But she wouldn’t push him. She understood the depths of the danger swirling around him. And she would not be the reason harm came to him if she could help it. He had already suffered unimaginably.
“I pray you will be safe, whenever the day comes,” she told him. “I wish I had a gift for you. Something for you to remember me by, as well.”
“I’ll never forget you.” He lifted his head, staring down at her with so much raw intensity and open love that it made her heart ache. “And as long as I am able, I swear to you that I’ll come back for you.”
His promise warmed her heart, even if she knew how impossible it would be. Even if he survived and defeated his uncle, he was a royal prince. She was a widowed marchioness with a widow’s portion that wasn’t even sufficient to support herself. They came from vastly different worlds. That they had come together at all was a miracle, and one she would treasure forever.
But when Theo left, she didn’t fool herself that he would ever return.
“You needn’t make me promises you won’t be able to keep,” she said softly. “You are a prince, and I’m a widow. If you defeat your uncle, you will likely have to marry for the sake of your kingdom.”
“When I defeat him,” he said firmly, “I will marry to please myself. I will marry the woman I love.You.”
Oh, her foolish, foolish heart. It wanted to believe such a future was possible, wanted it so ferociously. And yet her mind, in all its rationality, knew the hopelessness of their circumstances. She loved him anyway, so much that it was a physical ache.
Pamela blinked, her eyes stinging. “I’m no queen, Theo.”
“You aremyqueen,” he said, his voice bearing an urgency that was new. “You’re the queen of my heart, and God willing, you will be the queen of my people. You are the only woman I would want at my side.”
“Theo,” she protested, for he spoke of a future that couldn’t possibly happen.
But he stopped her with his lips. The kiss was slow and sweet, and she never wanted it to end. She kissed him back, trying not to give in to the tears that threatened to fall. To the fear that he would be captured and killed the moment he returned to his homeland.
Their mouths parted and he stared down at her, cupping her face in his hands. “Will you wait for me?”
He was so handsome, his expression so stern and serious. And she didn’t hesitate to contemplate. Her promise came with ease.
“I’ll wait for you forever.” She turned her head and pressed her mouth to the sleek heat of his palm. “I love you.”
“I would promise you more,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotions of his own, “but I don’t dare it. Not until I’m certain.”
Something inside her broke. Pamela had not expected to feel again so deeply, so differently from what she had known with Bertie. It seemed to her suddenly that she had been so very young then, that she was no longer capable of being that same, frivolous girl. That time and loss and grief had fashioned her into the woman she was now, and that woman could live and love again. Theo had shown her that. Had shown her how to find her way back to herself.
A stubborn tear at last worked itself free, rolling down her cheek. “I seek no promises,” she told him. “Only you.”
“You have me,” he said. “You have me always.”
